Lower than the Angels

Chapter 9, Ghosts

Mister Green opened a link that led to events in the neighborhood of Silbury Hill, a place that had been his home for many years. From there he showed his friends a night vision of an event that was taking place in a field nearby. 

At first the vision showed them a sequence of events in which a narrow swath of grain was forming. Individual stalks bent over, away from the upright stalks next to them, until they overlapped a layer that was already bent nearly flat to the ground. The stalks did not appear to be breaking, but simply relaxing their upright vigil. 

As one row of stalks began to lean it was followed by another, and another. Together they formed a wave of grain which gradually curved to form a spiraling arm. 

At a suggestion from Mister Green, the viewers drew their points of view away until they could see a wide circle of grain, in which several similar spiral swaths had already formed.

Mister Green said, look closely at the wave again and you may detect a ghostly being where the swath is forming. They did, and could make out a figure whose arms were waving over the grain as if conducting an orchestra.

When the circle was complete and the ghostly figure drew back from it, Mister Green said, Joseph, some friends and I have been admiring your work. Joseph approached them, seeming to see their spirit forms without difficulty. His own spirit projection grew less ghostly. 

He said, Nice to have a small audience for a change. Usually the visitors come in daylight, after my work has been discovered.

Tengri asked him, Do you do this often?

He replied, While the grain is tall, before the harvest, I try to do one every night. There used to be broad fields aplenty, and almost always some fresh ones. Now most of the fields are small ones under domes, and there are only a few fields like those near here where my efforts are still appreciated. Your Green Man seems to think this is a good thing. I'm not sure I agree.

Come, Joseph, said Mister Green, surely there are domes where your artistry would be appreciated more than ever. Tengri indicated his agreement with this idea, but Joseph seemed unconvinced.

Kore offered, I suspect most of Joseph's fans have been Ravens, who would like nothing better than to see all the fields replaced with woodlands where magic circles appear in glades beneath the boughs of oaks.

These thoughts being presented in her spirit voice, there could be no mistaking her sincerity, or the depth of thought it reflected. The spirit behind Joseph's ghostly form fairly glowed, and he replied, I do recall those days fondly, and would willingly return to them.

Mister Green said, Perhaps we will find them again. That is my fondest wish as well. We must meet again, my friend. 

On that happy note they parted company, and Mister Green led them on the next leg of their journey. Where that link took them was to a bank high on the shore of the river Clyde, near Glasgow. There was a fog rolling down the river, and as it passed by their vantage point the sun shining through it made it look as though the fog was alive, swirling with a rainbow of colors.

This is your doing Laenie, is it not? said Mister Green.

Out of the fog came the ghost of a girl, an elfin creature as enchanting as the rainbow mist itself. That it is, she said. I still come here and do this often. It makes this whole world seem worthwhile, despite the despoliations of mankind.

I think my friends here might agree with you.

We do indeed, said Tengri, knowing he spoke for all of them.

These friends of mine are largely responsible for the dome dwellings that are drawing mankind off the land, letting it return to its natural state, said Mister Green.

Then it is a pleasure to meet you, she said to them with obvious sincerity.

Do you draw the mist up from the river yourself? asked Cern.

Oh no, the sun does that. But I can make it swirl and shine and break the light up into all its many colors, she replied.

The magic comes from you then, said Kore.

From me and others like me. But only the soft magic. We do not like the harsher kind.

Are there others who do the harsh magic, then? asked Tengri.

Alas so, she said.

Can you tell us where we might find such beings? he asked.

I could, but I won't. Mister Green could too, but I hope he won't either.

You don't like them, then?

After all this time, their attitude remains incorrigible. I fear they will never change.

After a moment, Mister Green said, Thank you for your magic, Laenie.

I am glad you enjoyed it, she said.